


Hot sext, wrong text

by simplytheschittiest



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Sexting, Texting, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-28 01:22:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20055733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplytheschittiest/pseuds/simplytheschittiest
Summary: Wrote this mostly for myself, to get me out of a slump.And because I really wanted to mess with this skin.Also- shout out to the lovely souls at the Rosebudd for reminding me to get out of my own head a bit. You all are too pure for this world.





	Hot sext, wrong text

* * *

It was nearing lunch and the Apothecary had yet to see its first customer.

David paced the length of the store, anxiously awaiting 12:00. He had promised Patrick that he’d honor their regular store hours. Which usually meant taking lunch around noon and opening up again by 1:00, at the latest.

He looked down at his phone to check the time. 11:15. He still had forty-five minutes to kill before he could close up and meet Stevie at the café. _Damn it_.

Being unaccompanied in the store had been pleasant enough at first. Between sharing a cramped motel room with Alexis and spending most his days and nights with Patrick, there had been few moments lately where he'd been given the opportunity to be alone. Two weeks ago, when Patrick had decided to attend a seminar tailored to small business owners, David would have been lying if he had said he completely hated the notion of spending the day in solitude. 

But that was then. When Patrick had been flipping back and forth between three different sports-talk channels and arguing with him about what to do for dinner. The notion of being alone for a day, in that exact moment, hadn't seemed so bad. _But now? Right now? Missing him like this? _Well, it seemed like cruel and unusual punishment for having ever thought that.

He opened his phone and started scrolling through his photos—hoping that looking at pictures of Patrick might help him feel less far away. He had a million—_well maybe not a million_—photos of Patrick on his phone. And to anyone else, they’d all seem vaguely similar. An endless slideshow of Oxford button-downs, snug denim, short auburn hair, and perfect teeth. But David knew every picture by heart. He could tell the story of every photo he’d taken, explain each laugh and every smile.

He stared down at his phone, smiling to himself as he looked at one photo he'd taken recently. He remembered the laugh that echoed from the pit of Patrick’s stomach when he held his hand up in front of the phone, not wanting David to take the picture. He remembered the way the corners of his mouth fought a smile when he had leaned in to kiss his cheek and snap their picture. He remembered the feeling of Patrick's thin stubble brushing against his cheek as he tried to squirm away.

_“He's only been gone a few hours," _David thought._ "I shouldn’t miss him like this."_

He held the phone to his chest and gave it a light squeeze. The depth at which he buried the phone into his sweater was almost enough to muffle the light dinging sound of an incoming text. 

Patrick  
  
Hey, how's it going?  
  
So boring.  
  
No customers?  
  
Not one.  
  
Well that is shocking news.  
  
Lol.  
  
I miss you.  
  
I miss you too.

He clutched his phone a little tighter and scanned the store. _Not a single customer._ And for the first time that day, he was thankful to be alone. 

Patrick  
  
What are you wearing?  
  
A shirt and pants..?  
  
Babe. Work with me here.  
  
Ohhh, got it.  
  
Blue shirt. Sleeves rolled how you like them  
  
Mmm. What shade of blue?  
  
Light blue  
  
Are we talking more Steel blue or Carolina blue?  
  
David.  
  
Okay so we'll leave that up to my imagination. Keep going.  
  
Jeans. You know the ones we got on clearance last month? From that place in Elmdale.

David laughed and hugged his phone. He remembered the jeans. Patrick was right, they had been on clearance. But that wasn't why he had talked him into buying them. 

Patrick  
  
Remind me how they fit again, baby.  
  
They fit good. Tight.  
  
Yeah? Do they feel tight across that thick ass?  
  
Not tight enough that you couldn't get em off.  
  
You want me to take them off?  
  
Always  
  
What would you do next?

Somehow, this was working. He could feel his jeans tightening around his groin and the flush of arousal darkening his cheeks. He quickly made his way into the office and pulled the curtain closed behind him—just in case. He settled into his seat and tore open the fly of his jeans. With his cock in one hand and phone in the other, he pulled up his texts to Patrick. 

Patrick  
  
I'd mouth at your dick through your briefs  
  
Just before ripping them off and licking you from top to bottom  
  
Then?  
  
I'd take you in my mouth. All the way. Just the way you like it  
  
Yeah you would. Tell me what else that mouth would do

His hands immediately found a familiar rhythm as they stroked his throbbing groin and before he knew it, he was acquiescing to the comforting sensation of his own hands and finding himself utterly consumed with thoughts of Patrick. _How his calloused hands felt when they touched him. How soft, but firm, his lips were when they brushed against his own._ David tightened his grip and quickened his pace, suddenly so desperate to come.

He heard the soft ding of an incoming text and hastily opened it. His cock was slick with precome and his mind busy with thoughts of Patrick. He was so close to coming completely unglued and he needed Patrick to know it. 

Stevie  
  
Still on for lunch at noon?  
I'd take your balls in my mouth and lick them just how you like it baby  
DAVID. WHAT THE FUCK

_FUCKING CHRIST._

A thick ribbon of white come exploded from between his clenched fingers and up onto his sweater. _FUCK._

Stevie  
  
FUCK. Omg. Sorry. Wrong text  
Obviously!!  
I'll meet you at 1? I need a minute here.  
I'm sure you do.

David threw his head back and grabbed his chest, his fingers still clasped around his phone. Even through the barriers of the phone and the sweater, he could feel his heart rapidly pulsating beneath his palm. He relaxed into his chair and tried to catch his breath. He had almost calmed himself down when he felt his phone wildly buzzing in his hand.

"Hello?"  
"There you are. What the hell happened? I thought we were getting somewhere?"  
"We were. But then..."

David leaned further back into his chair and pulled his legs up underneath him as he eased into the comfort of he and Patrick's natural harmony. He smiled as Patrick laughed and made false promises that they'd never sext again. And suddenly, just like that, he didn't feel quite so far away.

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this mostly for myself, to get me out of a slump.  
And because I really wanted to mess with this skin. 
> 
> Also- shout out to the lovely souls at the Rosebudd for reminding me to get out of my own head a bit. You all are too pure for this world.


End file.
